


Faithful Angel

by untilthenextencore



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Angst, Codependency, Debauchery, Devotion, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Crush, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 05:32:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20270767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilthenextencore/pseuds/untilthenextencore
Summary: Jimmy develops a "some"* relationship with Amina, the teenage daughter of a crew member / friend in the late 70's. Told in what I suppose will be non-linear fashion as seems to be my usual.A some relationship is where it's not as defined as girlfriend / boyfriend but not as casual as fwb & not as unfeeling. Strings may get attached...Or people...Please be kind...Thank you...





	1. "Oh Doctor, You've Struck A Nerve~..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no "doctor" in this chap. The title is just a cute quote from one of my favorite romantic comedies "You Were Never Lovelier" with Fred Astaire & Rita Hayworth.

He was thinner than before. Slimmer than before. More gaunt. The lines around his eyes and mouth a bit more prominent. The lads saw them. The fans and photogs in the audience did. Amina saw them. And though he carried himself as if nothing on the world could phase him anymore... She knew Jimmy did too. She'd seen him poking & prodding at the lingering curves & new found angles of his face as he stared in the mirror. He tried to hide it by primping his curls & fixing them just so as he was wont to do. 

But still...

She saw...

She saw...

She saw... 

He saw...

Later she found that he saw that she saw. Well soused ramblings of a mind addled with countless stressors both external & internal - real & imagined? - voiced as large, trembling hands clasped & clutched hers, pinky nail digging into her flesh unintentionally as he grasped her.

He asked after the lines.

Asked if she could see the lines.

Asked if she could see them in pics as well as in person.

His eyes wide & wild. Pupils blown. More black than their usual jade green. Sweating fiercely. Looking as if he were looking both to and through her. With an unspoken hint... 

A sense of a question as to whether if she in all her decade and a half of life could do the same with him...

Stone cold sober...

A sobering thought for them both...

What should she say? 

What could she say?

Stumped for any alternative & clutching at straws for a reply, Amina just questioned back. "Lines? What lines? I don't see any lines, really..." When she saw his brow furrow in a mix of confusion & disappointment at her seeming to sound initially as sickeningly ingratiating as one of the star-fucker hangers on he now tended to avoid, she continued.

Boldly, her hand flew to his face, fingertips gingerly tracing along his temple, down towards his cheekbone as she added. "If you mean these... They're not wrinkles, Jimmy... They're smile lines... And I like that you have them... They give your face such warmth... Such life..."

"Better than the alternative..." She thought. 

The thought spun around & lingered in her head until before she knew it the words had spilled out of her mouth. Thankfully her voice found the lightest & most appropriately playful tone possible. Playful without being too dismissive of him & any apprehensions or anxieties he may have. 

Strange how with such a seemingly oppressive weight being placed on it, his mind still was able to make such Grand Canyon sized leaps to conclusions. 

Still...

In another attempt to soothe any of these same anxieties, Amina added the shy, blushing admission. "Besides... I think they're cute... They're kinda like whiskers... They're cute to me... Real cute..."

Despite any oppressive weights & chasm-crossing leaps his mind might be making, Jimmy still managed to crack a weak smile along with uttering the breathiest puff of a laugh she'd ever heard. It sounded like the laugh was fighting for air as it escaped from his birdlike ribcage...

Or birdcage like ribs...

Weak... 

But earnest...

The laugh gave weigh to sheepish self-awareness... As he looked down & regarded the almighty death grip he still had her other hand in at the moment... The tips of her fingers turning purplish-red. Only then was he seemingly made aware... Only then too, did she realize just how tight his grip was as she winced at the sight. 

How had she not felt that till now?

"Amina~..." He hushed in a rasp-wheeze, releasing his grip on her & recoiling seemingly at the sight of his own - though unintentional, unwanted & heretofore unknown - brutality. "Amina~..." Again came the rasp-wheeze. "Amina darling, I'm sorry..."

She loved when he called her that. It was something he had taken to calling her from almost the start. With the others... The star-fuckers & hangers on... If he deigned to recognize them at all it was often with derision... Snidely... Though even when he was in high-spirits he never gave any indication of remembering their names... Or even bothering to...

Instead it was often just him using "dear", "darling", "mate" and the like in place of the nobody / wannabe somebody's name. 

With Amina he was different. From the time they were introduced he had shown not even the slightest clue that he had forgotten her name. Instead of a placeholder he almost always called her by name. And when it wasn't just straight Amina, it was often "Amina dear", "Amina darling" or "Amina love". But the way he said it made it sound like it was linked together. Hyphenated. "Amina-dear", "Amina-darling" or "Amina-love". If not one word altogether. "Aminadear", "Aminadarling" or "Aminalove". One word. In one breath.

He breathed her name. Amina loved how he breathed her name. (Even when he rasp-wheezed it.) She'd bathe in it if she could...

Snapping back into the moment however, Amina was again confronted by a guilt-ridden Jimmy, whose gaze that though obscured by the smoke of the mini torch of a handrolled cigarette that lay clamped between his quivering lips, never left her - now much less purple or red - fingers, & whose face was etched in the very picture of contrition.

Silent...

Self-conscious...

Contrition...

He was already holding another torch to himself...

Baring himself to the light...

And he clearly did NOT like what he saw...

This finger incident - however minor - was obviously being taken as just ANOTHER thing to burn himself with under the light of the torch he held himself to...

Just ANOTHER thing to rake himself over the coals for...

"Hey..." She hushed, snapping him out of his silent self-flagellation. 

"Sorry... Sorry... Sorry... Amina love (Aminalove) I..." His eyes flew to hers & now it was her who needed to steel herself yet again lest she get lost in the - however favorable - workings of her own mind. 

"D-D-D... D... Don't worry about it, okay? I'm fine... I'm fine... I'm fine... See?"

"No I'm not... I mean my fingers are fine but... Why is it all he does is look at me & it feels like the room is spinning?!" She thought. "Like nothing is still around me... Or inside me... My brain... My heart... My stomach... My nerves... Almost all of my senses... They all get a shock... Why?... WHY?!?!"

Doing her best to brush those thoughts away, she waggled her "offended" fingers at him & smiled sweetly, teasing him. "See? They still work okay? Okay?... Okay?"

"Okay..." He nodded with another rasp-wheeze as he pulled the cigarette from his lips & dropped it, grinding it out with his "tuxedo print" shoe. 

Then, in the most sudden move she'd seen him make in awhile & the smoothest move she'd seen ever, Jimmy took her hand again - this time in much more ginger of a grasp - holding it like it were the finest porcelain, glass or crystal, & brought it up to his lips, pressing them to the back & mumbling against it, his breath HOT against her skin. "Thank you... Thank you... Thank you... Amina... Dear..."

That was it...

Gentle as it was...

That shattered her...


	2. Of Cracks & Creases & Trembles & Tremors~...

TSRTS was within 2 years of the rear view release wise, 6 filming wise. An entire life seemed to have been lived in the meantime. Car-note-expensive sunglasses hiding weary, smoky, bottle green eyes as bottles were brought to pale rose lips & the contents of which mingled if not masked the taste of a tobacco taste-stained tongue. Guitar-callused fingers lighting countless cigarettes as he folded his near 6 footed frame into an "elegantly wasted" silk draped slump onto the nearest accommodating surface. Folding chair. Love seat. Couch. Bed. Semi-occupied or otherwise. Amina knew this for it was quite a few times that she was perched on said "nearest accommodating surface" and thusly found herself being folded on by a nearly 6 foot silken slump.

At first she'd be shocked into stillness. The same towering giant of rock whose posters adorned her bedroom walls back home in her mom's house, was now tucked in on himself, folded into something resembling a fetus position on her lap. Curls disheveled. Face flushed. Temples still dappled with sweat. Jaw swathed in 3'o'clock shadow... Sometimes 5'o'clock... Sometimes 12'o'clock...

As if he could read her mind or sense her shock, Jimmy would fidget slightly. Trying to get comfy. That in the oddest way, seemed like a sign to her. It gave her license to relax. Chill out a bit. And as she relaxed, so came a sign from her. A tentative one. Her small, dainty left hand coming to rest on the top of his head. A small smile graced weary, wan features. And when her right fell in kind, it laid to drape on the crook of his arm. The silk of his jacket didn't leave room for much traction & thusly her hand slid to his wrist. The smile intensified to a face cracking, cheek creasing degree.

And just as her hand fell, his own hand shifted to take a hold of hers, the smile played still on his lips, though no longer to a face cracking, cheek creasing level. More muted. More subdued. As if it were being silenced by a great power...

As if the curve of the smile were slowly being sat upon by a great weight... 

The weight of his tiredness perhaps... 

The weight of Morpheus... 

A few mirthful cracks & creases remained. Little birds feet perched at the corners of his eyes. Amina traced them with a finger, murmuring the word. "Whiskers~..." This fractured him. Fractured his face again. Amina knew. For there came the cracks & creases again. His body shook with laughter. Far better than the body trembles & tremors that he usually had that rivaled any of the reactions Amina had or could imagine from any horror movie she'd ever seen, or any earthquake she'd ever felt.

Now instead, came that breathy laugh...

Stumbling from his lips...

Wracking his body as the earthquake upgraded... 

Until the whisper became a broken record squeak in the back of his throat... 

His hand giving hers a small squeeze as he shook, causing an aftershock that Amina wondered if only she felt...

In her feeling the aftershock, Amina felt her fingers twitch. Brushing against wet, sweaty curls & a cool, if clammy forehead. A vein throbbing at his temple tickled her fingertips fleetingly as they passed.

"Mmmm..." Came a rumble from his throat as the squeaks finally subsided.

He fidgetted again, linking the curve of his shoulder to her thigh, like one piece of a puzzle to its neighbor. Its friend. Its mate. Yin to yang.

His head thusly nestled more comfortably into her lap, his throat rumbling again with another hum. "Mmmm..." And the rumbling words that only served to prolong her aftershock. "Do it again... Do it again... Do it again... More... More... More, Amina Dear... More..."

And so it was that Amina found herself raking her fingers through the sweat dampened hair & brushing across the dewy temples of a 6 foot silken heap of a monumental man folded in on himself on her lap as he held and maintained a gentle grip on her free hand.

Cradling him in her arms...

A part of her having the sense... 

If not knowing full well... 

That all the while that he was in her lap & in her embrace...

He was in the arms of Morpheus...


	3. "Unreal Memories~" / "Banana Daiquiri Sweet~"

She didn't know how it happened. She didn't know how it started. She didn't really remember. 

Or rather... 

She couldn't trust her memory... 

It was too unreal... 

It was too surreal...

It all seemed like a dream...

There were a few things she did remember though... 

She remembered seeing him on stage... Thrusting against the guitar... Against his guitars... Lashing at it impassionedly with his bow... Gazing at her at certain intervals... As he fiddled with & adjusted the knobs on his amp... As he sat to strum his mandolin... As his body bent & arced instinctively with the wails he elicited from the guitar as he played... 

Hardening under his white silk...

His bulge pressing insistently against the fly of his trousers...

Trousers that were beginning to bag slightly on him in recent days...

But at least one part of them more often than not consistently remained anything but loose...

His cock rising... Pressing... Pushing against his fly as much as it was being pushed by his balls... Making him have to arrange, rearrange & re-rearrange himself as deftly as possible between numbers... Exchanging shy or shyly cheeky (cheekily shy?) smiles to his guitar tech if and when he was caught as he switched instruments... 

Only some of which hid his "affliction"...

Les Pauls were the best to do so. Though he gave it a run for its money! The doubleneck too of course. Gibsons were his best friends it seemed. His Danelectro was up there too. Teles weren't the best...

And his mandolin?

Ha!

Not on your life!

She remembered too, when after the mandolin number was over & he moved it aside...

Holding her gaze which he had caught at song's end & leaning back in his chair, legs spread slightly, proceeding to adjust himself in a less than subtle manner...

The least subtle manner she had ever seen Pagey employ to do anything!

Certainly anything of the kind! 

But unlike what she might expect of others, like even Robert - especially when he's had a few as he's eyeing a girl - he didn't wink, didn't grin, didn't tease her terribly in any way. 

He just gazed at her...

Pinning her with his eyes...

Staring straight into hers...

Silent...

Enigmatic...

Inscrutable...

As he adjusted himself yet again...

Her memory hazed over again after that...

All she saw was the milky smoke from the stage that turned purple under the lights...

When it cleared is when other senses came into play...

She started remembering other things...

She remembered him...

The scent of him...

The scent of him...

The scent of him...

The scent of him... Musky & male... A mix of lingering sweat & the best efforts of the shower he just took... Sweat & soap...

The feel of him...

The feel of his cool, damp skin beneath her fingertips...

The silk beneath her palms...

Bunched beneath her palms...

Hands flat on his thighs...

The feel of him slipping between her lips... The coolness of his damp flesh under her fingertips contrasting nicely with the warm weight of him on her tongue... Hot & hard... Slick & throbbing... Throbbing as her tongue explored him... Exploring every last inch... Tracing every last vein... Circling around the tip & receiving both a soft snarl, a gentle growl & a delicate drip that she drank up as eagerly as ever...

The feel of him...

The feel of his hands...

Large hands... Callused & still worn from play... Hours of play... Cupping her head... Petting her hair... Long, elegant fingers raking through her tresses... Raking through them as he guided her... Guiding her gently... Making her scalp tingle... Making her skin tingle... Making every part of her tingle...

The sound of him...

His pleasured sounds... 

Deep, shaky breaths... Contented sighs... Low moans... Rumbled approval... 

Sighs of her name... 

Her name & all of his usual pet names for her... 

Including new ones... 

Ones she had never even heard before... 

Ones she had never even dreamed that he'd call her... 

Not in a million years!

Gruff moans too... Gruff & needy... Frantically searching... Searching... Searching... Searching... 

Searching just as he was searching for air... Beginning to pant... Nearly hyperventilating it seemed at times...

Searching just as he seemed to be searching for relief... Hot... Wet... Relief...

Searching...

Searching...

Insistently searching...

Consistently searching...

Frantically searching...

Hips pistoning faster & faster as a tangled mess of softly cooed sweet nothings & hotly hissed curses & Britishisms pouring from trembling, pink, pouted lips as her own pink, pouted lips remained pursed around his length... Doing her best at drawing at him in in time with the thrusting of his frenzied hips... The plushness circling tighter as her tongue continued to explore...

In return...

He began to clutch at her... 

Her hair, her shoulders, her back... Clutching & clasping at her... Grasping at her as if she were the very peak he was climbing then... Mussing her in the process...

His hands roaming her body as she knelt before him... As much to cop a feel as to chase after & seek out an anchor... A connection...

This Amina knew... 

Or rather...

This Amina found out...

As when Jimmy at last found & reached his peak & came... He did so with an almighty snarling growl & the arch of his back... Ten toes curling inside "tuxedo print" shoes... One hand gripping her hair, fingers sifting through & clutching at the locks... His other hand clapped over one of hers where it lay on his upper thigh... Fingers laced with hers... Gripping it tight... As he found his long sought after hot, wet release... And fired jet after jet of hot, wet cum onto her tongue & deep into her mouth...

Then she was left only to be confronted by his taste... 

Another facet of his taste... 

Sweet...

Sweet...

Sweet...

He was sweet...

Banana daiquiri sweet...

At least that's what Amina figured what with how that seemed to be one of his favorite go tos...

Banana daiquiri sweet with a bite... 

An earthiness...

A warm earthiness like spiced honey... 

Amina did her best to suck out every last drop before he pulled himself slowly from her lips & leant back to light up a cigarette. She sucked it up, closed her eyes & drank it down slowly... Letting it coat her tongue... Letting it coat her throat... Reveling in it with a hum... A hum... A hum... A soft, delighted hum...

"Mmmm..."

Upon opening her eyes, she looked up to Jimmy & saw that she had once again had his undivided attention... She saw him looking at her intently... Intensely... Burning her with his jade fire gaze...

Before she could react however, he acted...

He pulled the cigarette from between his lips & ashed it... He cupped her chin & lifted it so her gaze stayed on him & swooped down... Searing her with a kiss... Devilish tongue sweeping through her mouth... As a deep, satisfied moan rang out... Reverberating from pink pouted lip to pink pouted lip... Free hand returning to once again link with hers... Lacing fingers once more... Giving her soft, little hand a gentle squeeze... Pulling back only to once again allow her to gasp for breath as he sighed...

"Thank you... Amina... Love..."

That was it...

That was it...

That was it...

That was Jimmy...

Banana daiquiri sweet...

With an earthy kick...

And hot as fire...


End file.
